


Modosu Ga Discord

by Espadara



Category: Akame ga Kill! (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Drug Abuse, F/M, HealthyNajenda, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, NoTeiguEsdeath, Suicide, SyuraIsADickLikeAlways, TRIGGERWARNINGS, VillainProtags, WeAren'tGoodPeople, likeseriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Espadara/pseuds/Espadara
Summary: Five discord friends are killed and find themselves awakening in the world of Akame Ga Kill! But their plans to adventure are put in jeopardy when they discover they aren't the only Isekai protagonists...and the world has already changed for the better. How can you adventure in a peaceful world? Stir up a little chaos yourself, of course.
Relationships: Akame/OC, Bols/Kije (Akame ga Kill!), Esdeath/OC, Mine/Tatsumi (Akame ga Kill!), Seryu Ubiquitous/OC
Kudos: 7





	1. Ends and a Beginning

“Stop! Stop that thief!” A woman yelled as she ran out of a small grocery store, one cell phone in hand already calling 9/11. Onlookers watched as a hooded man sprinted down the street, a bag of bills and various goods clutched tightly to his chest, a knife being jammed quickly into his pocket in an action borne from years of practice. 

Sirens rang out into the night, and the Thief ducked into a pitch black alley, praying for the police car to pass him by, but his luck proved poor. The car parked at the entrance of the alley, the cops quickly exiting and pulling out guns, and the Thief cursed, looking for a way out. He saw a nearby fire escape, using his parkour to run a bit up the wall to grip onto the edge, pulling himself up. The bag of stolen goods nearly fell, but he managed to catch it with his fingertips, quickly rescuing it.

“Stop right there!” The cops demanded, shining a flashlight at him. The Thief, of course, didn’t listen, quickly making his way up the fire escape until he eventually reached the roof, falling to his knees as he took a well earned break. The sound of footsteps came from the stairwell, and he jumped back to his feet, looking for yet another escape, as the footsteps came ever closer.

“Shit...” He cursed, as the door to the roof kicked open, a cop pointing a gun at him. The Thief made a leap of faith to the building next door, certain he could reach it; but he underestimated the distance between them, and just how tired he would be from the chase.   
  
The shock on his face as he realized he wasn’t going to make it stayed when he crashed to the ground below.

* * *

At the same time at a far different location, a young man was sitting by himself and playing some Playstation. Killing Zombies, chilling out, just hanging out--a perfect way to spend the night. The rest of his family had gone off to a party, but he had stayed behind, claiming to have a cold. As if.    
  
A knock at the door stirred him out of his thoughts; who would be knocking at this hour? He paused the game and walked to the door, opening it with a confused expression, which practically doubled when he saw someone he never thought to see again.

“Sarah?” He said bewildered, having genuinely never expected a moment like this to happen. He hadn’t seen her in nearly three years; they dated a little, back in high school, but things didn’t really work out between them before she moved to another town. Last he had heard, she had gotten married to a doctor, or something.

“...Hey. Do you mind if I come in?” She asked, and the man could feel... _ something  _ was off with her, but he still let her in. Things were good, back when they were together, and he still looked back on them fondly. He moved aside and went to the couch, sitting down and motioning for her to sit across from him. She sat down with a smile of appreciation. 

Figuring that there was no use beating around the bush, he decided to just go out and ask. “What are you doing here? Does...Derrick, know you’re here?” He asked her, hoping he got the name correct. She stared at him, nearly two minutes straight, until he coughed to bring her back to reality. She shook her head, as though waking from a daze.

“It’s Derren.” She snapped, not wanting to speak his name, but her features softened almost immediately. “Truthfully...I just wanted to see you. I missed you, ya know.”

Had she said these words even a year ago, the man would have been ecstatic; but as of now, he just felt...kinda empty. “What we had was nice...but it’s  _ late _ . We can catch up over a coffee, or something, not in my living room at...” He took a quick glance at a nearby clock. “Ten after midnight. Why are you here so late?”

She smiled at him, standing up and pulling her shirt over her head, exposing her bra. “I told you. I wanted to see you...and I wanted you to see me, too.” She walked over to him, step by step, and the man struggled with a moral dilemma; could he sleep with his ex, even knowing she was married? 

“No.” He whispered, standing up. He turned his back on her, to no longer be tempted by her body, and he spoke louder. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I won’t tell your husband.” 

“...do you really think you’re better than me?” 

He turned around at this, seeing her standing there with a gun in her hand. His heart raced as things took a downward spiral. 

“Sarah, put the gun down.”

“I wanted to stay in contact, you know.”

“Sarah.”

“But you never messaged me or anything, not even once.”

“Sarah, that was  _ three years  _ ago. We broke up months before that.”

“Did you not love me? Was I just a fucking  _ fling  _ or some shit?!” She yelled, pointing the gun at him. The man stumbled back, hoping to put distance between him and the crazed woman, but his back was pressed against the wall. 

“Sarah, please, you need to think about this. I cared about you, but you’re with Derren now. We’re not the same people we were back then.” 

She stood there, silent, and the man caught a glance at her eyes. Empty, as though she wasn’t really there...as though she wouldn’t listen to reason. 

“Sarah... _ please.”  _

“...We’ll have all the time we need to change ourselves...in the next life.”

The man’s eyes widened as the meaning of the words hit him. The gun fired, once, twice, and the man collapsed to the floor. Another shot rang out, and the man could hear something hitting the floor, barely piercing together it was likely his killer taking her own life.

He tried to crawl against the floor, desperate to reach a phone, but he couldn’t raise an arm. His vision was getting blurrier by the second, until everything went black.

* * *

“Hey, watch where you’re driving, dumbass!” 

A young man is walking across the street, just barely managing to leap out of the way of a driver who was driving on the wrong side of the road. He cursed at them as they kept driving, knowing it was likely a lost cause; if they didn’t even know what side of the road to drive on in Hawaii, they probably wouldn’t understand English.

  
“Calm down. They’re not gonna learn how to drive just from some high schooler yelling at them.” His girlfriend pointed out, sitting down on the stone wall to watch the waves. She patted the spot next to her, smiling gently at him and clearly motioning for him to sit.

“We shouldn’t stay here long,” he said, taking a seat. “We should head home quickly or we might get attacked by the scourge of Hawaii….Micheal Reeves.” he finished.

“Yeah he might trick us into taking a picture and shock us with his taser camera.” His girlfriend laughed, leaning her head up against his shoulder. The two sat staring at the waves, and the young man couldn’t feel more...content. Things were going well, and he wished the moment could last forever.

But when he heard his girlfriend’s stomach growl, he got up and stretched lightly. “Stay here. I’ll go grab us a bite to eat.” His girlfriend smiled and kissed him, and he grinned in joy.

He went back to the crosswalk, looked both ways, and began walking...

“Hey kid! Watch out!”

He turned his head, just in time to a car of tourists driving the wrong way, seconds before the car hit him straight on. He bounced from the sheer force of the impact, idly noting he probably wouldn’t be able to get that bite to eat after all, just before his head hit the road and cracked his skull wide open.

* * *

“ _ Fly me to the moon _

_ Let me play among the stars” _

A man stared listlessly around a trashed room, casting his gaze from wall to wall. He took a few steps forward, ignoring the crunch of wrappers and broken glass beneath his feet, and crashed down on a poorly made bed, which creaked beneath him. He stared up at the ceiling, and the hook hanging from it, as the music kept playing.

“ _ Let me see what spring is like _

_ On a-Jupiter and Mars” _

Thoughts swirled in his head; bad thoughts. He felt angry, and hurt, and confused. He wanted to lash out, and he wanted to be alone. Too many contradictions--he was going insane, at this rate, and no one cared, because no one  _ ever _ cared.

“ _ In other words: hold my hand _

_ In other words: baby, kiss me” _

His stomach hurt. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything  _ hurt.  _ It was a pain that existed his entire life; when things got too much for him, and his body hurt itself as a punishment. He thought of crying, but he hadn’t cried in years. Sometimes he thinks he can’t, anymore. Nothing could push him hard enough to actually do it.

“ _ Fill my heart with song _

_ And let me sing for ever more _

_ You are all I long for _

_ All I worship and adore” _

He leans back up, staring at his hand, and idly wonders what the point of it all was. Why did he exist? What was the point of life, this monotonous routine that only served to cause him pain?

“ _ In other words: please, be true _

_ In other words: I love you” _

He got up fully at this point, his mind unwillingly dredging up memories best left forgotten. Taunts and jeers, all of his failings. Why did he ever think anyone cared? Why did he ever think he deserved to live? He reached out his hand, grabbing a bottle of whiskey, and drank straight from the bottle. It barely fazed him any more. If anyone had told him he would be an alcoholic at such a young age, he would have laughed in their face. But look at him now, a failure, someone who can only convince himself to keep living by looking into a fucking bottle. Even that wasn’t enough, now.

“ _ Fill my heart with song _

_ Let me sing for ever more” _

He walked over to his closet, pulling out an item he had poured his soul into making. A frayed noose, made of good rope; he didn’t want to risk it breaking, as it would be his  _ escape  _ from this accursed life. A life where mediocrity was the norm. A life where his choices, the only ones that mattered, had been made long ago. A life where there were no second chances. He briefly wondered if he would go to Hell; he believed in it, after all, and yet the thought of Eternal Damnation didn’t scare him. At least then...he could feel something. Anything other than this pit he had fallen in.

“ _ You are all I long for _

_ All I worship and adore” _

He attached the noose securely to the hook, testing its weight briefly. Seeing that it would hold, he pulled up a small chair and stood atop it, placing the noose in front of his face. He almost thought he could see paradise, just through the noose, but he snorted in response. In all likelihood, it was a final temptation by the Devil, wishing to cart him to Hell. He almost laughed, almost, but he still found that he couldn’t. Didn’t they realize? He needed no temptations, not when he was already this far.

He glanced over at his phone; should he send a message? Let people know what he was planning? But no--if they knew, they might stop him. He couldn’t let that happen. His thoughts strayed, just that little further, to the online group he had once been a part of. Surely, he could leave  _ them _ a message..?

No. He left in order not to burden them with his troubles in the first place. He wouldn’t break now. He placed his head fully through the noose, smiling ever so briefly, then kicked the chair out from underneath him. The rope suddenly went taut, and he felt something  _ snap _ in his neck. His breathing stopped completely, but he tried to force his body to stop struggling. He had already accepted his death. 

His vision went black, and his struggles ceased.

“ _ In other words: please, be true _

_ In other words, in other words: I love you...” _

* * *

Across the ocean, a secret meeting was taking place in a warehouse. Three men were unloading several inconspicuous brown packages from the back of a truck, while another man was smoking a cigarette off to the side, watching them work.

“You gonna help us out here, fucker?” One of the men called to the smoker, who just raised an eyebrow in amusement. The smoker just took another drag of his cigarette, staring the man in the eye, until one of the other workers harshly elbowed the first man in the gut.

“Don’t piss him off, idiot!”

The first man finally dropped his gaze and went back to work.

Eventually, the three men were done. The smoker dropped his cigarette, stepped on it, then slowly began walking amongst the packages, inspecting them carefully. The three men helpfully chimed in as to the packages contents, on how pure it was, but the smoker merely hummed in response, clearly barely paying any attention to them.

“And this is all of it?” The smoker finally asked, standing back up.

“Yea. It’s all there, we wouldn’t try to cheat you.” One of the men said. The smoker glanced at him, before turning back to eyeing the packages.

“Wouldn’t try to cheat me, eh...” He whispered, before chuckling. The three men shifted uncomfortably. The smoker turned back to look at them, smiled, then clapped his hands twice.

Three shots rang out, and the three workers fell.

One of the men was still alive, screaming in pain as he clutched the wound on his neck. The smoker sighed, brought out a small handgun, and walked forward. The man could barely speak from the wound, but kept moving his lips as though he were attempting to ask questions.

The smoker pointed his handgun at the man, as more men came out from the corners of his vision, each of whom were holding rifles. The smoker smiled, gesturing to them as though they were all actors in a play. “We had this planned out.” He helpfully explained to the man convulsing on the ground. “We knew you guys were stealing from us for quite a while now. A shame. You could have gone far, had you shown just the tiniest amount of loyalty.”

He shifted a little, to put another cigarette in his mouth. One of the riflemen rushed up with a lighter, lighting the cigarette, and the smoker inclined his head in thanks. He breathed deep, exhaling a cloud of smoke, and sighed again. “Well...no helping it now.” Pointing his gun once more at the man, pulled the trigger. The man’s head bounced off the ground in a spray of blood.

“Sometimes I really hate this business...” He whispered, placing the gun back in his pocket. His cigarette was almost all ash, now. Motioning his hand towards the drugs, he walked back to lean against one of the walls. “Start loading it back up.”

Silence.

He looked at the riflemen, some of whom still had their guns out. “Have you gone deaf? Start loading the damn drugs up! I’d like to get out of her sooner rather than later, I got shit to do.”

One of the riflemen, looking to his fellows, stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, Mr. Gonzelmo will no longer be requiring your services.”

“What?”

“He thanks you for your hard work, and hopes you understand this is just how business is done.”

The smoker rushed to pull out his handgun, but was too slow; the bullets entered him from all angles, giving him no chance of escape. As his body hit the floor, one of the men took a picture, sent it, then left.

It was always just business.

* * *

A flash of light, harsh winds, and intense pressure. Five souls veered off course.

In another world, in five separate locations, five pairs of eyes all opened at once, and five bodies drew breath.

“Where am I?”


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes awaken in the world of AGK.

Darkness. That was all he saw. The colour black. In the back of his head, he knew that he should be dead, since he was ordered to be killed by the very boss he had served for several years. Even after crossing into that bright light, he remembered the pain of the bullets tearing into his vulnerable flesh as his taught skin split, his body tissue ripped apart by the ravenous frenzy. Then suddenly, hot metal began burning the inside of his throat, the rich, yet unpleasant taste of blood spilling into his mouth by the second. These were the last sensations he felt, until now.

Now, he simply felt… warm. It wasn't the feeling of his blood oozing out the holes in his body, but instead, it felt like he was… alive.

' _What the hell is going on?'_

He slowly opened his eyes, expecting to see a large and fiery, apocalyptic world, with demon spawns ready to guide him to his place in Hell. But to his surprise, instead he saw a beautiful blue sky with masses of trees in his peripheral vision.

"Where the hell am I?" He quietly asked himself.

He pushed himself up, greeted with more trees in almost every direction. When he squinted, he could see some kind of dirt path on the ground before him. The man just stood there for what seemed to him to be an eternity of disbelief.

Just minutes ago, he had been killed, gunned down from all angles. Bullets ripped through his flesh and into his bones. His body should have been dumped into the ocean to be forgotten. Instead, here it was. Here it _is_. He should be dead.

' _My wounds.'_ He snapped out of his daze and started to pat down his body. He flinched as his fingers traced the areas where the bullets should have pierced his body, but he only felt flesh.

"Oh my good, holy, damn god!" At first he was quiet, but soon he full-blown began giggling to himself at the situation. A man who had been shot, someone who should definitely have died was standing right here. To him, that pretty much meant one thing.

' _I am a_ fucking _god_.' Drops of rain began to land on him, and he stopped his giggling to move under a tree, for some cover. Even if he _was_ a god, being drenched in rain was something he didn't like.

' _Whatever the case is, I should find out where the hell I am_.' The man looked around for something to cover his head, but settled for taking off his suit and using that instead. With the rain only getting worse, he decided to take the (non-existent) risk of getting sick and he walked through the forest.

He began his grudging walk and followed the dirt path he spotted before. Around him, he could vaguely make out noises and objects that didn't belong to a normal forest. Big footsteps, weird scales, tracks and other strange objects made it clear to him that whatever lived here wasn't anything he was used to.

' _Wherever I landed, I hope to god the things living here aren't dange-'_ Before he could finish his thoughts, a giant head of a snake rolled up along his path. He froze, his mind only containing one thought.

' _Turns out it isn't safe.'_

He refocused and immediately crouched down. Slowly, he circled around the snake head and hid inside a bush. He squatted down to breathe a sigh of relief until a voice rang out.

"Hello, earth to stranger, are you okay?" He almost screamed when he heard the voice, but he covered his mouth with his hand. He turned his head around and looked through a bush. He saw a man in full green armor, holding a red spear and standing over another guy with a dazed expression on his face.

' _Who the hell are those people?'_

He continued to watch as the two continued their conversation, acknowledging that the clothing one of them was wearing signified he wasn't with the man in armor.

The conversation at this point went quieter, and he struggled to make out what the two were saying. He thought that the man in armor was trying to help the other guy, but he wasn't even sure if that was the case. For all he knew, he could be threatening him to do something kinky.

All of those thoughts were swept away when the man in armor wrapped his arms around the guy and turned around, giving him the full view of his face. It was Bulat from Akame ga Kill. A man who most definitely does not exist in real life, and is most definitely dead in both the manga and the anime. A man who was currently in front of him, alive and _laughing_.

' _Wh-WHAT?!'_ he thought, very surprised. He ducked lower into his bush, as the duo walked closer towards him, and he caught something that piqued his interest.

"My name is Dragon. Draco for short."

As the duo walked away, he finally came out of his shock and slowly processed this information. Bulat exists, so that means he was in the Akame ga kill universe, but he's supposed to be dead. And Dragon; there was _no_ mention of anyone in the series named 'Dragon', and that is definitely a name most people would choose to hide their _true_ name.

' _But why Dragon? Could he be… like me?'_ He brushed off those thoughts. Right now, all that mattered was that he followed them to wherever they were going. When he couldn't hear their voices anymore, he quietly followed them from behind, making sure not to be on the same path as them, and only in the vegetation around them.

Maybe he could actually get some answers about this weird world he landed in.

* * *

' _Why does dying have to feel so cold?'_ The young, 18-year-old boy had asked himself.

When the speeding car struck him on the road, he felt the heat and intensity of both his body and the wind, as he was briefly sent flying off the ground. He had closed his eyes before his head made impact with the ground, and soon after he became one with the cold abyss known as death. He mentally cursed at the reckless driver that was driving on the wrong side of the road; he didn't care if they were tourists from another country. If you are visiting a foreign country, you drive on whatever side of the road the foreign country tells you to. He wondered how long he would be stuck in… wherever he is now. He didn't care if he ended up in Heaven or Hell, because right now the cold was starting to get to him as it began to brush across his face.

Wait… he still had his face?

…

Either he's somehow alive, or the pastor at church lied about Hell being hot.

As his eyes opened with curious intent, he was greeted with a grey sky that was lightly showering the ground with small, white snowflakes.

"W-Where… am I?" The boy whispered to himself.

As he pushed himself up to his feet, he continued looking at his surroundings and saw trees for as far as his eyes could see, all coated with a white sheet of snow atop their branches. Everything was beautiful. Not once in his entire life had he seen snow falling out of the sky, covering the ground in its frosty texture. Then again, he did live on a tropical island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, so that could have been the main reason. But still, he couldn't help but stay and soak in the moment; it just felt... nice. That is, until the cold breeze brushed past his exposed limbs and brought him back to his senses.

"SWEET MOTHER OF GOD! WHY IS IT SO DAMN COLD?!" He yelled out as he held onto himself, trying to keep himself warm.

It was his first time being in a cold environment and he already misses the weather back in Hawaii. Still, despite the nature of the situation, he wished he could spend a little moment with his family.

…

' _Shit, that's right. My family!'_

Realizing this, the boy quickly dug deep into his right pocket to reel out his phone. He didn't care if he called his siblings, his parents, or Ashley first, as long as he called someone to let them know that he's alright. It only took a few seconds for him to feel the rough, rectangular shape in his pocket, and, in joy, he was hit with a ray of hope; he pulled out his phone, only to find the screen completely shattered, and broken beyond repair.

"What the-? How did it-" He asked himself, puzzled, until he remembered why.

He put his phone in his _right_ pocket. The car hit him on his _right_ side, so, of course, his phone was destroyed too.

"God. Fucking. Dammit!" In a desperate swirl of rage and hopelessness, he slammed the broken phone into the blanket of snow, which softened its impact and prevented any form of further destruction.

' _Great. Just...GREAT! I'm somehow alive in god knows where, my phone is destroyed meaning I can't contact anyone, and to top it off, I'm in a cold, snowy forest of all places! Can this get any worse?!'_

Hoping to look for any signs of civilization, he surveyed his surroundings and noticed something in a clearing. It was an igloo. If there's an igloo out here, then there's bound to be someone living there. If not, at least he would have shelter for the night.

He could feel his heart pounding with hope and excitement for human contact, as he dashed towards the igloo, before stopping a few feet from the entrance of the hut. For some reason, something inside of him told him there was something wrong and he needed to run away. He shook his head trying to rid himself of any doubts. Taking a breath, he stepped slightly closer to the entrance of the igloo.

"Hey! Is anyone there? I need help!" he shouted, hoping it'll draw someone out of the hut and help him out. But as what felt like seconds had passed, he took it upon himself and bent down to see if anyone was occupying the igloo. As he looked, his heart jumped out of rhythm for a second that felt like sixty.

Inside the igloo was something he could only describe as a wall of pulsating flesh that glared a porcelain white in the little light that it received. His stomach turned as he saw the veiny, oily meat that hung taught across the insides of the entity; he felt sick as sweat rolled down his head and back, instantly freezing into solid moisture. Despite his gut feeling, the boy placed a hand on the outer walls of the 'igloo', just noticing how hard - and slippery - the surface really was. He firmly pressed his hand against the wall, pushing against it, until he felt the flesh of his own hand being pushed back against bone. He shuddered, removing his hand from the wall, then gulped as he dragged his index finger down the inside of the supposed hut. It felt tender and fleshy, and prone to damage; it was a complete contrast to the outside.

As his finger was pressed against the fleshy wall, he felt a faint vibration coming from the igloo. He stood his ground, becoming more cautious by the second, until finally screaming when the vibration became an erratic shaking. He felt it beneath his feet too, as he backed away from the creature beginning to emerge from the snow before him. He heard a gutty growl as the shaking increased, the beast growing bigger by the second. His legs gave way and he fell to the ground in shock, watching the igloo suddenly turn into a shell for what appeared to be a large crab in white and blue. His heart rate rose, as he witnessed four ice-armored, multi-jointed legs sprout from each side of the Danger Beast, as two, glowing blue eyes stared right into his soul. He managed to catch his breath and unsteadily got up as the shaking stopped, watching the crab-like beast reveal its two, crushing pincers.

Turning around, he began to sprint as fast as he could despite the caking snow under his feet. He only managed to travel for a metre before he felt two vices grip his front and back, literally forcing the wind out of him - he couldn't even scream. He realised he was caught between a pincer, and tears began to well up in his eyes as he felt himself being flooded full of a type of venom, from pin-like stingers lined across the inner pincer. His mouth was open in an inaudible scream of agony, as goosebumps rapidly ruptured across his body. His body temperature dropped by the minute, shaking helplessly within the pincer. The boy watched in pain as the Danger Beast's mouth seeped out foam, his eyes widening with visible tears when he gathered he was supposed to be this thing's meal.

' _This can't be real! No, no, no, no, no! Is this what happens when Purgatory sends you down to Hell? I just died as roadkill about fifteen minutes ago, and now I'm gonna die as breakfast for this fuckface! ...I- I CAN'T MOVE!... I-I'm frozen! Shit! Why does dying have to feel so c-cold?'_

The boy braced himself as best he could, the venom having dropped his body temperature to a state of near-paralysis. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth, his streams of tears solidifying as frost on his cheek. He tightened his neck, his body twitching as he smelled the cool, yet rank breath of the beast growing closer. Suddenly, the boy's bones jolted in his body, his eyes firing open as he crash-landed in the snow beneath him, winded from the impact.

He was barely able to look around, given his eyes were foggy with frosty tears, but he saw that the pincers that held him hostage had been sliced off. It lay before him, the two crushing ends split apart from the drop, with a streak of red blood oozing from the end of the arm. He caught a shaky breath, struggling to curl up into a ball to retain what little body heat he had left, all while watching crimson blood gush out from different places of the beast.

The beast growled, as another young boy, who was accompanied by a group of two others and a large, truck-sized sleigh behind the fight, swung his sword with precision, aiming for joints and fleshy areas beneath the icy exo-skeleton and armor. The beast struggled as its legs were cut off, the fighter butchering the beast. Blood began to paint the snow red, until the boy dropped beneath the beast, and put all of his strength into a final thrust of the sword, piercing the ganglia on the underside of the giant crab. The now-dead beast toppled over, blood oozing from its wounds.

The fighter ran over to the startled and freezing boy, who could barely speak and had no strength for questions. The boy's vision was hazy now, and everything was a blur. The last thing he could definitely make out was the companions of the fighter loading up parts of the dead beast onto the sleigh, possibly as a means for food or craft.

"Hey!" the stranger told the boy in a firm voice, removing his white, blood-stained jacket, and helping the boy put it on to help his situation. "Can you hear me? I've never seen you around here before. You were just attacked by a class two Danger Beast, a Snowfake. Don't worry, the venom itself is not usually lethal, it just cools you down!" He spoke, lifting the boy up by the arm.

' _Usually? 'Nd did 'e say a d-danger beese?'_ he asked mentally, too cold to display any form of shock from the statement, losing consciousness rapidly.

The fighter continued, "I'm taking you back to my village for help, if you can still hear me. What's your name?"

The boy took a long few seconds to process the question, on the verge of unconsciousness. Finally he spoke up, "M-my nay, is… I'm-"

He didn't get to finish as his body gave into the cold, collapsing unconscious onto the snow cushion. The last thing he saw in his hazy vision was the blurred face of his saviour; he saw a blur of green eyes and brown hair, and the rest was all undefinable features in his current state.

* * *

Light was the first thing that hit him.

Not the light of fire, such as would emit from the flames of Hell, but actual, god-given light from the sky. It felt warm, comforting, and with the soft soil beneath him, he felt as though he could rest there for years.

But that was the problem, wasn't it?

He took a deep breath - another sign something was horribly wrong - and forced himself up. The dead had no need for rest, or to breathe, and wasn't he one of the dead now? He had killed himself; he was sure of it! His neck had snapped, his breathing had stopped, and there was no one who would find his corpse, or even care to look. And even if someone _had_ found him, why would they leave him on the side of a dirt road?

Rubbing his neck, disturbed to find no traces of damage, he cast his gaze around him. Had he ascended to Heaven? Or some kind of Purgatory? There were no demons, or fire, or brimstone, so he doubted it was Hell. Or maybe it was one of those ironic Hells, where the pain stems not _physically_ ,but _mentally_ , where everything looked right until it didn't.

The sky was blue, the grass was green, and the air felt cool as it breezed along. It was… serene. For the first time, he felt truly comfortable in the world. He barely noticed the large, two-headed goat with bird wings, that casually walked past him. But notice he did, and he laughed in relief. For a moment, he thought he had somehow escaped Hell; such an abomination could only be a demon.

"Oh, I call to thee, great demon!" he cried out mockingly. "For I am a new arrival to these Hells, and I have not had an introduction as of yet!"

The beast looked at him with both sets of eyes, and both mouths opened wide to reveal sharp rows of teeth. It rushed at him, and he briefly experienced a bit of regret; perhaps attracting a demon's attention was not the smartest thing he'd done.

"Look out!"

A sudden shout heralded the arrival of a stranger leaping out of the air, slamming one of the goat's heads into the ground with a well placed-kick. Even with his lack of medical expertise, he could tell the goat's neck was broken. The other head reared up to bite the stranger, who caught it with one hand, the other quickly jabbing forward to impale the goat through the eyes. There was a disturbing _squelch_ sound, as the stranger pulled out their bloodied fingers, and the goat slumped over, dead.

"Incredible..." he whispered, looking at how quickly the stranger had disposed of the beast. The stranger turned to look at him, and now that there was no fight going on, they both had a good look at each other. The stranger was a teenage boy; not much younger than himself, and he was wearing clothing that bore a resemblance to one of those monk temples.

The stranger was eyeing him over, taking notice of his rather pronounced gut and nice clothing. "Hm… A merchant, all the way out here? My name is Kain, of the Koken temple. Have you become separated from your caravan?"

The man's eyebrows rose as the stranger - this 'Kain' - mistook him for a merchant of some kind. Who even used the word merchant, nowadays? He was about to reply with his real name, right on the tip of his tongue, but decided against it. He still didn't know where he was, after all, and the presence of someone who actually _helped_ him pointed he was somewhere far different from Hell. "...Espadara. You can call me Espadara."

"Well, Espadara, you should be careful out here. Paragoats are low-ranking Danger Beasts, but they can still be deadly against civilians. You're lucky some of us disciples were on a training trip nearby, else you'd be goat food," Kain explained good-naturedly, already pulling out a knife and cutting off the Paragoat's wings. "You're _even_ luckier that I was out hunting when I heard you yelling at the beast. Did something happen to your caravan, for you to be crying about the Hells?"

Danger Beasts, the Koken Temple...it wasn't long before Espadara realized where he was.

' _Guess I'm in Hell, after all...'_

"You could say that, yes," he replied, coming up with a lie on the spot. "A bit of trouble with an Earth Dragon. Thankfully, no one died, but I lost all my wares. I don't suppose I could trouble you for assistance back to the Capital, by any chance?"

Kain furrowed his eyebrows. "Earth Dragons? Out here? I had thought the Imperial Knights had wiped them all out… Hah, and here we were thinking we would never get to face any. Perhaps if we're lucky, we'll face one on the way back." He nodded at Espadara. "You'll be coming with us, of course. Wouldn't be right to leave you out in the wilderness by yourself."

The man from another world smiled, already thinking of how his Isekai adventure would play out.

* * *

It was the most painful experience he had felt in his entire life. He knew that dying would hurt in a way. But he didn't think he would die with hot lead burning in his chest, killing him slowly. But that didn't matter anymore, he was now dead and was going to the other side, whether it be Heaven or Hell. He just hoped that God was merciful and allowed him to rest in peace. But something else had happened.

For one, he felt alive and the burning pain in his chest was gone. In fact, he didn't feel any warmth. He felt cold. He felt wet, as his body felt drops of water fall on him. Slowly opening his eyes, the man found himself in a very unusual place.

He found himself in the middle of the forest while it was raining, surrounded by trees as he laid on an open field. The sky was covered with grey clouds as they let the rain fall down from above.

"What the? Where the hell am I?" he said to himself. "First I get shot to death by my crazy ex, and now I'm in a forest getting soaked by rain."

The man sighed in disbelief by all this. "What the _fuck_ did I do to deserve this?" He said. A crack of thunder punctuated his words, and he looked up at the sky which was quickly worsening. "Shit...my sweater won't do much against that. I need shelter, and fast."

The man walked through the forest to find somewhere to use as shelter, just until the rain stopped. While he did love the rain, especially hearing the sound of it outside his house, being left outside during a storm was definitely not a favored activity. As he continued to walk through the rainy forest, something took notice of the man as it slithered through the trees, trying to get closer to its prey.

The man continued to walk through the tough terrain, cursing in the process. "God damn it! Why is it so hard just to move here?" As he said that, he ended up tripping on a tree root, and he fell to the ground.

"Ah shit," he groaned in pain, as he tried to pick himself back up. But then the sound of hissing made him freeze in the moment. Slowly looking up, the expression on his face morphed into one of fear by what was looking at him. Looking down at the man from above the tree was a snake. No, scratch that, it was a massive anaconda. With rainbow, scaly skin and yellow eyes that looked at him with hunger, it was ready to strike and kill its prey.

"I...I just died earlier. Why again? Why me?!" he said to himself in frustration, closing his eyes and waiting to die again.

When the anaconda moved towards the man, out of nowhere, something came at the massive snake and sliced its head off. Once the anaconda was killed, the person that killed the reptile walked to the downed man.

"Hey, are you alright?"

The man opened his eyes and looked up to see a pleasant surprise. Helping him up was a huge guy in green armor, with a large, red spear in hand. The man recognized the armor and knew who the voice belonged to. In front of him was the famous '100 Man-Slayer', Bulat.

"The fuck?" the man uttered to himself in shock. He did not expect anything like this to happen. When he was shot to death, he did not expect to be sent into another world like an Isekai anime and nearly get killed by an anaconda, only to be saved by Bulat. He didn't know why, but he did know he was now in the world of Akame Ga Kill. A series that was pretty much a guilty pleasure to him. He wasn't too thrilled about this, but at least he was with someone he actually liked.

"Hello, earth to stranger, are you okay?" Bulat said again, snapping the guy out of his thoughts.

"Oh right, sorry. I'm alright. Just still in shock about what happened."

"It's fine. Pretty sure that would happen to anyone that was nearly killed by a Danger Beast," Bulat said happily. "Though, what are you doing out here? It's too dangerous with the amount of Danger Beasts in this forest."

At that point, the man began to brainstorm, trying to figure out what to say that didn't sound crazy. Remembering that he's in the world of Akame Ga Kill, he created the perfect cover-up. "Oh well, you see, I'm a traveler and I was trying to get into the Capital to look for work. And I ended up lost whilst traveling. And here I am, completely soaked."

"Oh, you're heading to the Capital? What a coincidence. Me and my army pals are heading back there as well," Bulat replied.

"Wait, really?" the man questioned in shock. Usually when it came to stories that involved being transported into this world, like any fanfic, Bulat would be with Night Raid by now. Why was he still in the army?

"Yup, we just defeated some bandits that were planning on raiding a village. Now, we're heading back home. If you want, you can travel with us," Bulat offered.

"You'd be okay with that?" the man asked.

"Of course, anything to help someone in need. Are you interested?" Bulat asked.

"Well, seeing as I'm lost and need to get out of the rain, I'd be crazy not to accept."

Bulat laughed happily as he wrapped his arm around the guy. "Sounds great. Let's head back to my camp."

"By the way, what's your name?" Bulat asked, as he guided his new friend back to his base camp.

At that moment, the man brainstormed once more to think of a name. Should he say his actual name or just make one up? He decided to make up a name, as his real name didn't feel like it would be appropriate for the timeline of this series. Quickly remembering his username on his Discord account, he decided to use that.

"My name is Dragon. Draco for short."

"Dragon? What an interesting name you have," Bulat complimented.

"Oh yeah. I'm really into dragons and love anything that involves them," Dragon admitted.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. That just means you have a strong passion for something."

"Hmf, thanks man."

"No problem."

As the two continued their conversation, Dragon began to think about what was going to happen to him, seeing as this world was much different from how it usually played out in the anime and manga. For now, he'll just go along with it until he figures everything out. Till then, Dragon will have some fun before he arrives at the Capital.

* * *

For what felt like several moments, there was nothing. No light, no sound, and then came the ringing. The ringing echoed in his head. Endless noise, annoying him to consciousness, suddenly hit by a jolt of life causing his muscles to spring up and tense. The initial pressure of his muscles wanting to move at the exact same time caused them to just freeze on the spot. His chest expanding, he made a sickening unnatural sound, as if his soul was entering his body, clinging to life. His lungs filled with air, desperate for rejuvenation.

The sudden jolt forced his eyes open, rolling back into his skull. He wanted to stop the pain but he couldn't. He could do nothing but listen to his heart thump inside his ears. Then it stopped. It was only a few moments but it felt like an eternity to him. He drew short breaths, his vision was blurry, his head was spinning and he felt nauseous. He tried to get up, only to turn to the floor, and he felt light in the head before suddenly vomiting, until his throat hurt from the sudden jolt.

He coughed violently as he fell on his back. Again, he tried to slow down his breathing by lengthening the time between breaths, gagging nearly each time. He felt tired and wanted to sleep. The distant sound of sirens echoed in the back of his head. He suddenly jumped up and stumbled to his feet, the sudden rush making him disoriented, and he had to lean on a wall for support. Sweat dripped off his face as he forcefully moved across the wall; it pained him to move, so he slowly slid down with his back against the wall, careful to avoid the vomit.

He pressed against the wall and looked up slightly, his confusion dwindling as he surveyed his surroundings. The walls were yellow; the paint was cracked and peeling off, revealing the brick structure underneath. The skies shone blue with puffs of white clouds hovering overhead. _'This isn't right,'_ he thought to himself, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Where...am I?" He asked in the empty air.

' _What happened last night?'_ he pondered. His first thought was that he must have landed on a scaffolding or something before hitting the pavement, lessening the impact. No, he'd be at the police station in a cell, or handcuffed to a hospital gurney and covered in plasters. Did he get away before passing out in some alleyway? But no, he couldn't remember how he got there, and there was no area in town that had old yellow-painted buildings.

He sat there trying to remember the events of the previous night; the plan to rob the little grocery store near his apartment, the knife he held, the police who chased him, and eventually the fall to the alleyway below.

"No, I definitely remember hitting the ground...but that fall would've killed me," he whispered, barely believing the thought taking shape. If he had truly died...

A small group of kids wearing ragged clothes rushed past him, laughing at some sort of game they were playing. Judging from their clothes, similar to that of the children in his neighborhood, he doubted he was in some kind of Heaven; the fact they were laughing shot a hole right through the possibility he was in Hell.

His heart was beating impossibly fast as the realization began to set in. He _knew_ he had died...but if this wasn't Heaven or Hell, but another _world_ entirely... then he really had no clue what to do.

"Problem, kid?"

A hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his head, and he turned to see an old man, far along in his years. Harsh, tanned skin, pronounced laugh lines, and what looked like a gold tooth glittering in his mouth. "You alright, kid?"

The man from another world nodded shakily. "Yes, sir. Perfectly fine."

It was a blatant lie; he was a second away from having a heart attack from the situation, and it was clear the old man didn't believe him. Before the old man could speak, he continued quickly. "I just - I'm a bit new around these parts, and I don't really know where I am right now."

The old man laughed, slightly angering the other man, and said with a chuckle, "New to the slums, eh? Don't you worry; the road back to the good part of town is nearby. Ya can't miss it. Oh! And make sure you don't listen to anything that Leone says. She's _real_ good at helpin' ya de-stress, and I know _that_ from experience. But she'll tack on a bunch of little charges."

Leone...

That name was familiar.

"I think I heard that name before... just to clarify, is she blonde? Great body?" He asked casually, once again hit with shock.

If...if he was _right,_ then perhaps he had been _reborn..._?

"Yea, yea! That's the one! Makes me feel twenty years younger, I tell ya!" He declared, confirming the young man's suspicions of being in another world. The old man seemed to not notice his distress, and continued speaking. "Glad she finally took that offer from Miyazaki."

He could barely hear him through the haze. The realization that he had died, but had now been in a world from a show he had watched ages ago... it seemed too good to be true.

A second chance at life.

"Old man!"

"My name's Jithero, you damn brat!"

"Call me Creakey! I need a job, whatever you have!" If he was going to survive in this new world, then a new job was a must; there was no way he could jump back into the thief game without some type of hideout, and knowledge on the local guards.

Jithero, meanwhile, looked at him with a glint in his eye. "Why...it just so happens that ol' Miyazaki was looking for a new hire. Tell me, Creakey..."

"How do you feel about grave digging?"

**AN: And there's chapter 2. Second chapter will have a slight time skip as we see our heroes adapt to the new world, and meet each other. We also won't be switching so much between POV soon.**

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Welcome to something I’m very excited about. I’ve been working closely with some other users of the Akame Ga Kill Discord, and together we bring you a group Isekai fic. A slow beginning, to be sure, but expect things to kick off drastically!
> 
> Credits to Pergy, ph0enix17, Dragon78591, Bludmaster, and Davin111. Be sure to check out Dragon78591’s fanfiction account over at Andrew78591.


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